Sub-Heroes: Boombox

Chapter Three

A runaway train, escaping the pain.

I’m riding it away, to start a brand new day.

Today yeah!

Today yeah!

Take a ride with me baby, so we can be free.

Rails by Calvin Kobe

Released 1984

Corbin and I had this great fantastic plan, to hide. We were going to stay outside of the school until the first siren and then run straight to class as fast as we could. It worked like a charm! Partly because it was executed with military like precision but mostly because Billy did not turn up.

It turns out we had been hovering outside of the school gates, drinking Go-Juice and watching everyone that passed closely for no good reason.

I was stuck between two confusing maths formulas. You know when you decide to skip over a difficult question, only to find that the next one is harder? Well thats where I was when I overheard from a girl called Wendy who was sitting two desks away that Billy did not turn up in her earlier class. The whispering Wendy suggested to her friend that he was ditching school again.

I am relieved and a little concerned over Billy’s condition, is he that badly injured to need a day off? At least Corbin and I now have a reprieve.

The remainder of my Maths class continued much as I expected… painfully. Eventually, mercifully, the siren rang out giving Corbin and I an opportunity to quickly catch up in the corridor between classes.

“Have you seen any sign of him?” whispers Corbin.

“Good news,” I say excitedly, “He’s not here! So we are off the hook.” We smile at each other and run to our next class which we both share. First up is English and then after lunch my favourite, Drama.

I really enjoy my Drama class for two reasons; firstly because I’m good at it and secondly because it’s the only class I share with Kellie. The thought of my later Drama class with Kellie and the relief of realising that Billy was not here helps my English class fly by.

Before I know it, the lunch siren echoes around the hallways allowing Corbin and I go to our usual lunch spot under a shady old olive tree by the edge of the oval.

Unwrapping my lunchtime sandwich I lean back against the old tree trunk, take in the cool springtime air and the bright blue cloudless sky.

“So, am I going to have to put up with your screeching after lunch again?” jokes Corbin.

He is referring to my role in the upcoming Drama production. Despite being early in the year, the final term show is well into rehearsals. My role is quite important if I dare say so, I am the lead and I have to sing.

Okay, I don’t ‘Have’ to sing, I enjoy any excuse to perform in front of people but I’m not going to admit that, not even to Corbin.

“My screeching? You keep banging your drums and showing off your arms to the girls,” I laugh.

“Like you can talk, half the time you’re ogling at Kellie. I’m surprised that Ms Johnston doesn’t make the whole song a duet,” Corbin jokes.

I sheepishly look down because Corbin is right. I’ve had a crush on Kellie from the day I started. I think she likes me, we hang out together now and again but we have not dared to discuss being boyfriend and girlfriend. Or more to the point, I have not had the guts to ask.

Another voice speaks, not one of ours. ”So… predictable.”

Corbin and I firstly look at each other, instantly recognising the owner of the voice from behind us. We both look around and see our nightmare… Billy standing behind us, he must have snuck around the large old tree.

Billy’s dark eyes look as if he has not slept and he’s not wearing the school uniform, only jeans and a tight black t-shirt, with one arm bound in a fresh white sling.

“I knew I would find you little love birds here… now don’t move, don’t shout, I have a little surprise for you.” Billy smiles disturbingly.

Without even a second thought, Corbin and I stumble forward and run, leaving our lunches behind us.

“Hey! Come back you cowards!” Billy yells.

I know our only choice is to run, Billy is strong and fast, we will need all the extra distance we can manage.

This is why I was so surprised to see Corbin look back and then slow down. I also turn around, to see Billy not running but limping towards us. The fall from his bike must have done more damage than I thought.

In an uncommon act of bravado, Corbin yells back at the injured bully. “Come on then Billy, catch up! Or is all of that weight dragging you down?”

What? I could not believe my ears, it’s the first time I’ve heard Corbin say anything like that to Billy. In fact, it’s the first time any student has.

I’m caught up in the moment so I add, “Its okay Corbin, he’s waiting for his gravitational pull to drag us back to him.”

“You punks, you little dweebs. I am going get you, mess you up!” pants Billy, while limping.

There are other students around the oval and their attention is attracted by our yelling. Cautiously they wander over to us as one of the older girls shout, “Hey look at Billy’s busted arm.”

Within moments we are surrounded by students of all ages, all pointing and taunting Billy without fear.

I suppose that these first few months of high school bullying and probably years more at whatever school he came from, had all caught up with him and now there was blood in the water.

I smile to myself as Billy backs away from us with his look turning from anger to confusion, so I add my own contribution to the chorus of jeers.

“Oh poor Silly Billy!” I yell out.

This is instantly picked up by the growing mob.

“Silly Billy, Silly Billy” the crowd chants in unison. Billy looks distressed, this must be the first time anyone had seen him like this.

“Shut up, shut up all of you! I know, know wh, who you all are. I, I...” Billy’s voice begins to break. He stumbles, turns around and we hear him whimper to himself as he painfully pushes through the crowd and limps away towards the schools outer fence.

The end of lunch siren rings out, but Corbin and I stay on the oval for a few extra moments, basking in our newfound glory. The other students ask us what had happened to Billy. Corbin and I smile at each other and explain how we played our parts in Billy’s injury. For these brief moments we are looked upon as schoolyard Heros.

“We’re late for class,” Corbin eventually comments.

For Corbin to say that, we must be really late so we quickly rush towards our final class of the day, Drama.

As we burst into the classroom Ms Johnston looks away from the drum kit she is setting up, “Oscar Hammond! Just because you are the lead, it does not give you any special privileges.”

Ms Johnston is an older teacher, my guess is that she is in her forties. She has long brown hair and always seem to dress in similar clothes that are all different shades of ‘tan’.

While teaching she never stops, always moving about the classroom, shifting equipment, setting up stages, instruments and all the while talking and teaching. I feel exhausted watching her even if I’m standing still.

“Sorry,” I pant, “But I had some… trouble at lunch.”

Ms Johnston shakes her head as she moves onto extending a microphone stand. “Take your places in the chorus and let’s begin…”

I take my place in the chorus while Corbin quickly sits himself down at the drum kit, clashing the cymbals as he does so.

Ms Johnston counts down. “4, 3, 2, 1… why want more, when all you need is an open door…” she starts to sing and we all follow.

Like I said, I love singing.

It distances me from whatever troubles I feel, for those moments I am lost in a world of my own. I look around and spot Kellie singing backup with a faint grin. Her hair is tied back showing the pink flower pattern on her thin glasses. I don’t know if she means to do it, but she always hides her smile on account of her braces and her head is tilted downward towards the sheet music. Then she peeks upwards with only her eyes looking cheeky as her smile widens. My arriving late must have amused her or Ms Johnston telling me off… or both.

This is my place, my house, I sing my heart out and I suppose that this is why I am the last one to stop singing when there is a sudden knock at the door.

Ms Johnston opens the frosted glass classroom door and we see two policemen, the stony expression on their faces puts a sudden stop to my happy vibe. They have a murmured conversation with Ms Johnston and then all three look at me.

“Oscar Hammond,” one of the policemen bark, “We would like a word as well as with Corbin Burns.”

I glance quickly back at Kellie and she shoots me a ‘What have you done now’ look as we are escorted out of class. Corbin looks worried and I can tell he is thinking the same thing as I am, since when did picking on a bully become a criminal offence.

We are marched into the Principal’s office. As this is my first year of high school, I can’t remember his name. I’m sure it’s Peterson or Peters or something.

With the police blocking the door after we enter the office and the Principal sitting at his undersized desk, there is nowhere for us to run.

“There’s no need to worry, we are only trying to find Billy Wilson and we have been told that you two boys were involved in an altercation with him during lunch.” Mr Peter-something said.

‘Altercation?’ That word makes our lunchtime shouting match sound so real, so official. Corbin kicks off with the worlds most predictable line and the one I was also going to use, “He started it,” his voice is already breaking.

I decide to expand with my own explanation. “We were trying to go home last night when...”

One of the dark uniformed policemen then cut me off “It’s okay son, we only need to know if he might still be on the school grounds.”

Instinctively I ask rather than answer, “Why?”

The three men quickly exchange glances and the Principal responds, “Billy’s father has called us and he is concerned because he was meant to stay at home today but apparently he has wandered off… and that’s all.”

One of the policemen add, “That’s right as Principal Peterson said, we are simply trying to find Billy and see him home.”

‘Principal Peterson’, I knew it.

Corbin then speaks up, “Well he’s gone, I mean he was here but he left before the end of lunch siren.”

“Did you know what direction he headed off in?” the Policeman asked.

“He left the oval, towards Bennett Street.” I say.

The two policemen share a silent nod, the talkative one looks back at me, “Thanks for that boys, you can return to your class now.”

“Yes,” commands Principal Peterson. “Off you go now.”

We stand and leave the office. Walking slowly back to the Drama class Corbin asks, “What was all that about?”

“I’m not sure,” I say, “I’m glad that the cops were not after us.”

It’s been a weird few days and I am happy to be going back into my normal Drama class.

We walk in and the other students instantly surround us asking questions but Ms Johnston quickly shushes them down. “We have wasted enough time today, let’s at least try to have one full rehearsal of the opening number before home time.”

Obediently we all take our positions and Ms Johnston counts down again. “4 and 3 and 2 and…”

Before she can finish, there is a loud thumping at the class door.

“Oh, blessed, what is it now,” she says as she swings the door open.

For a moment there is silence as we see a familiar but now shaking figure at the door.

“Billy?” asks Ms Johnston.

“Close the door!” yells Corbin, but Billy forces his way past Ms Johnston and slams the door shut behind him causing the frosted glass rattle.

“Corbin, Oscar, I knew I would find you here in the loser class,” Billy angrily grunts.

“Billy Wilson, you can remove yourself from my classroom right now!” commands Ms Johnston in the most authoritative voice I have ever heard her use.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” says Billy as he reaches into his sling with his good arm.

“I reckon that I’ll be doing the removing.” Billy smiles strangely as he pulls out a heavy, dark grey pistol from his sling.

“Whoa Billo, what are you doing?” I shout.

I’m not sure where ‘Billo’ came from, I suppose I am trying to find my way onto whatever good side he has left.

It doesn’t work.

Billy quickly turns to me and the barrel of the gun follows. Billy Wilson’s eyes are wide open with beads of sickly sweat dripping from his forehead.

“S’S’SIT DOWN!” he stammers. My first thought was that he is about to explode. He is beyond angry, he’s jumpy, twitchy and swings the gun between various people in the class.

“I SAID SIT DOWN!” he screams again, all the time with a smile that’s way out of place.

“Oscar, quickly sit,” Ms Johnston whispers but not quickly enough as Billy pulls the trigger and fires a shot mid swing into the crowded classroom. We all drop to the floor but we hear a yelp and then a whimper from one of the girls.

Far out, someone’s hit. I hope it isn’t...

“Kellie!” yells Ms Johnston, “Lie still, try not to move.”

I look across the room, her normally pretty eyes are rolling back behind her glasses. Her mouth is locked in a grimace showing the braces that she normally tries to hide. Incensed with seeing Kellie lying on the floor, one hand clutching a wound in her shoulder, I look up to Billy and scream, “Why are you doing this?”

“I… SAID… SIT!” he shrieks and fires the gun towards me. A sickly sensation in my gut causes me to instinctively place my hands to my stomach. I feel a burning sensation then lightheadedly crumple to the floor.

I can’t believe that this is happening. I look up at Billy’s wide eyes and scream with all the strength I can muster.

“WHYYYYYYYY!”

The word comes out louder than I expect, it resonates from deep inside my chest.

Billy stumbles back for some reason and then he says, “No one puh-puh-puts me down, not like that. Not my old man, Nuh-nuh-not you!”

I have an odd empty feeling in my gut and my head becomes fuzzier. Distantly, I hear Corbin speak. “It’s called revenge you fracken idiot.”

Billy turns and he stomps towards the drum kit that Corbin is lying down next to. Kicking the kit aside Billy yells above the crashing of symbols. “What did I tell you? What was my promise! I am gonna mess up your face.”

I cannot move and through narrowing tunnel vision I can see Billy train his gun straight at Corbin’s head.

In a vain hope to distract him, I scream from someplace deep inside of me.

“NOOOOOO!”

Billy’s face freezes in shock as he is flung across the room like he has been caught in an invisible gust of wind. His body hits the far wall like a rag doll with a cracking thud as the all of the windows on that side of the classroom shatter from the impact.

Pieces of broken window fall to the ground, I gasp for breath, each inhale brings a new sharp pain to my midsection and I finally give in to the veil of darkness that descends over me.

[4 Years and 3 months until Detonation.]